Truth and Consequences
by Maelynne Naveen
Summary: Tamaki should really be more careful when selecting cosplay outfits - especially considering the one host who isn't really a boy. What happens when he is the only one around to witness Haruhi's most recent costume fitting? TamaxHaru oneshot


Probably a little spoiler-y if you aren't current with the manga releases. Though this is only through Chapter 58 since I didn't want to deal with the events of 59+ in this story. That's all I can say without giving anything away :D

Yes, pushing the outer limits of the T rating, but I tried to keep it toned down for the most part.

_I don't own Ouran High School Host Club – but I do have a very cute kuma-chan plushy!_

* * *

**Truth and Consequences**

o.O.o.O.o

"Haruhi, have you finished?"

A muffled reply was all that was heard from behind the long gold curtain.

The blonde sighed and resumed pacing. The fact that she had agreed at all was actually quite encouraging; it seemed she was loosening up. He smiled, pleased with how his cute daughter was slowly coming around.

_Opening up to all of them_, he quickly corrected, not wanting to imply anything improper. After his inappropriate misstep a few weeks before, he was especially glad that things hadn't become too awkward between them. And why should they be? It was perfectly acceptable for a father to kiss his daughter – and on the forehead, no less.

Not stopping to ponder why he had to constantly remind himself of his parental status more and more frequently these days, he spun back around to the changing room.

And nearly fell over at the sight of the petite brunette standing hesitantly in front of the curtain.

"Senpai, is this really appropriate for club activities?"

_No. No one else should ever be allowed to see you in that._

She pulled at the fabric, "I mean, this makes it pretty obvious I'm not a boy."

That was an understatement. He drank in the sight of her, as usual trying her patience, but she permitted the scrutiny without comment.

Oh gods, he truly was a closet pervert if this was the kind of thing he picked out for his _daughter_.

It was intended to be a simple Arabian Desert cosplay – no different than the hundreds of costumes they'd had her wear before – but this time the scant costume had turned out disturbingly erotic once it was on.

Tiny golden slippers adorned her small feet, the toes curling up slightly in an authentic manner. Somehow when selecting the ensemble he had failed to notice that the dark blue pants were nearly sheer and gave the most mouthwatering glimpses of her slender legs, all the way up to the low riding waistband.

The intricate gold design of the belt clung to her slim hips, dipping scandalously low under her bellybutton. Leaving her abdomen bare, the short vest clung to her modest curves, somehow accenting the small mounds against the expanse of bare skin.

His eyes traveled up her body and back down again before realizing he surely looked like a lecher to anyone else who might be watching.

Clasping his hand over his mouth, he backed up, blood rushing first to his face and then lower as the apparel's full effect descended upon him.

"Um, Senpai, is everything okay?"

He shook his head in a somewhat less than convincing 'yes' motion, hand still covering most of his face.

She gazed at him in confusion; still not entirely certain what had caused his outbreak of ridiculous behavior. Not that Tamaki-senpai ever really needed a reason… As fate would have it, she chose that moment to glance down, bringing the exact reason for his behavior into _full_ comprehension.

Although his costume did not come with the same sheer fabric as hers, the thin fabric of his desert-style pants left very, very little to the imagination.

Deep in the depths of her heart, Haruhi had to admit she was flattered. Despite not having bothered much with her appearance, it was gratifying to know that with the proper apparel, her modest assets could be effective.

Of course, the most important matter was to calm the spazzing lord, who was probably near nervous breakdown by now.

"Haruhi, you must think I'm the most depraved father of all time," he wailed piteously unable to meet her eyes.

"I guess I might – if you were actually my father…. Um, you realize you're only a year older than I am?"

He shook his head vigorously, "I know I'm not _really_ your biological father, but that's the only explanation for why I find you so cute and want to be with you all the time."

She facefaulted; it was obvious he didn't even listen to himself. If he had, this whole situation would have been resolved by now.

But the thought of a "resolution" had her stomach flopping as though an entire swarm of moths had decided to set up residence there. What resolution was there in this situation? Her eyes lingered over the expanse of his toned stomach as she tried to convince herself there wasn't any attraction, all the while her face burning with a bright red flush as she recalled that particular bare chest pressing against her in a small bathroom.

Even the magazine had confirmed she felt something for him – but really, that still wasn't any kind of resolution. Their personalities were so entirely mismatched; it was absurd to even contemplate something beyond mere physical attraction, right?

Then again, her father always said that opposites attract. And her father, so much like the blonde standing in front of her; along with her studious mother, so much like herself. Even at her young age, it had been obvious to Haruhi that her parents had been fiercely in love. And their personalities that may have seemed mismatched at first glance actually complemented each other, blending into a loving whole.

And it was true that after all this time she had grown to realize that behind his frivolous exterior was someone she deeply admired.

She scolded her rampant thoughts – _just whose side are you on anyways? _

But her stubborn mind refused to answer and a slight coughing noise brought her back to the present.

He was staring at her in a half-terrified, half-intimate way, sending chills all the way to her littlest toes.

She lifted her eyebrows in his direction, trying to control the incessant pounding of her heart against her ribs. It was absolutely terrifying to think what would happen if they tried this and it didn't work out – most likely the dynamics of their friendship would be shattered, to say nothing of the Club. There were other excuses - dozens that she had come up with - but it seemed the longer she lingered, the less important they became. Of course her dream of graduating and going on to become an attorney was still there, but a relationship didn't mean quitting school. She already knew he had career goals too, and that he fully supported her dream.

Continuing to hold his gaze, her face burned with a hot blush but a surprisingly pleasant tingle formed in her lower belly. She didn't look away, but didn't move any closer either, unwilling to make the first move. After all, it was his fault for picking out this skimpy cosplay without stopping to think what the result might be.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. The scent of her shampoo filled his senses, her bare skin luminous and entirely too close for comfort. No matter how strictly he tried to remind himself it wasn't appropriate – that it just wasn't right – it was to no effect.

Father complex or no, he wanted this girl. And not just the lovely, delicate body currently on display. He wanted her mind, with its desperately dry sense of humor and amazing intelligence. The way she contradicted everything he said and yet supported him so completely as well. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, protect her from everything and anything.

But not just her, he suddenly realized with a universe-twisting jolt.

A flash of a daydream suddenly overwhelmed him. As was typical of his frequent inner-mind interludes, the fantasy involved the two of them in a classic scene: walking along a tranquil beach, the gentle waves turned golden from the rays of a setting sun. But for the first time ever, they weren't alone… a tiny girl with sunny blond hair held tightly to his hand as they walked in the wet sand and Haruhi held a violet-eyed toddler in her arms.

A cold flash of realization swept over him, followed by a heated rush of desire. He didn't want to _be_ Haruhi's father – he wanted to be a father _with_ Haruhi. It made all the difference in the world!

Those enormous chestnut eyes still held his, searching as though if she stared deeply enough she could ascertain what he was thinking.

Transfixed, his hands moved as if of their own accord. Ever so slowly he lifted her chin enjoying the way her cheeks pinkened at his touch. As if in a wordless invitation she nibbled on her lower lip, further drawing his attention to that area.

The father façade eased away, falling off as though it was a discarded cloak in a too-warm room. He finally let it go, no longer grasping frantically to keep it wrapped around his shoulders. It was immensely frightening but he had finally realized the necessity of releasing what had become more like a straitjacket than a security blanket.

Even if it meant losing her, it was suddenly the most important thing in the world to see this through.

"Haruhi…" his voice was quieter than usual, but still intense and unwavering. "Please don't think less of me."

And with that, he captured her face with his hands and melded his mouth to hers. She had long decided not to resist and distantly realized that even if she had wanted to, it would have been impossible now. It started off awkwardly, as neither of them had really kissed anyone before but as she relaxed into the embrace, she noticed he followed suit.

Her head spun and she grasped the front of his vest for support. Realizing her dilemma, his arms immediately went around her, still not releasing her mouth from his passionate hold. If her sexuality had ever been in doubt, it was completely clear to her at this point. Kissing another girl hadn't had any effect on her. But this – she was struggling to even form coherent thoughts at this point. It felt as though every sensation she experienced was intensified a hundred-fold. The slow burning heat that had started by flushing her face now spread over her entire body, making her feel overheated from head to toe.

The warmth from his bare chest flowed to hers through the thin fabric of her top. Horrified, she felt herself instinctively press her small breasts more firmly against him, the intimacy of the contact pushing all rational thought from her head. She moaned into his mouth and he replied by slipping his tongue between her lips, doing his best to memorize every inch of her soft tongue. Somehow they made it back into the dressing room, Tamaki pulling the curtain shut, before tumbling softly on the padded bench with Haruhi landing on his lap, slim legs framing either side of his hips.

With utmost tenderness, his thumb traced the soft skin of her cheek, threading his fingers through her soft cropped locks. He had never seen such a look in her eyes before, nearly mesmerizing him with their intense depths. Until now the very idea of his unflappable Haruhi sitting on his lap, staring at him with desire clearly visible in her eyes had been absurd. Until now.

Now all that mattered was the taste of her mouth and the feel of her amazingly soft bare skin under the touch of his hands… and the very, very pleasant sensations her particular positioning was having on his lower regions. Tentatively at first she brushed her tongue against his, then became increasingly intimate as the appendages slid against each other, learning and exploring.

"_I can't find Bun-Bun! I think I left him in the changing room when I was getting dressed."_

Voices and the hurried tap of footsteps startled the pair and they broke apart. As if in slow motion, Tamaki peered around the girl propped on his lap as Haruhi turned her head to see what he was looking at. Neither had noticed the small pink plushy seated in the corner, having been too preoccupied with other matters. Unable to extricate them from the compromising position before the curtain slid open, an unsuspecting Hunny burst through, then stopped dead in his tracks. A moment of shock quickly turned into a wide grin. The short host teasingly shielded his eyes as he scurried to retrieve his bunny, "Sorry, you two – didn't mean to interrupt" and ran out.

Mori's deep voice could be heard across the room, followed by Hunny's good natured reply, _"Hai! And about time too!"_ before the door clicked shut and the room was once again silent.

Neither moved, still frozen in place by shock and surprise. After a few moments had passed, Haruhi bit her lip as it slowly became more and more humorous, until she was shaking from trying to hold in her laughter. Relieved that she wasn't angry about their embarrassing situation, Tamaki was able to relax and found himself laughing along with her until both had tears running down their cheeks.

"Did you see his face?" she managed to get out.

He paused, "I suppose that means we won't be hiding it."

Taking a deep breath she nodded, "Somehow I have a feeling they knew a long time ago."

He grinned at her, resting his forehead against hers. "Yes, that's true." With a glance down, the sight of her scarcely-clad chest brought another matter to mind, "Though we definitely need to inform them that this particular cosplay theme is cancelled."

She swatted him in mock outrage with one hand, the other trying to pull the flimsy material into place.

"But maybe we should keep it…" he teased, fingers sneaking around her bare abdomen, "just for sentimental reasons, of course."

Her bright blush was the best response he could have wished for as he gathered the now grinning girl into his arms.

o.O.o.O.o

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Gah, the fluff! Oh well, I'm glad to have gotten my say in before the real thing happens :D


End file.
